“Mommy,” Lucy said, her voice small and careful.

“Yes, sweetie?” I said, laying the wooden spoon on a paper towel.

“Why did Maya turn her back on me when I went over to the coloring table?”

I shut off the gas burner and slid the pot onto the cool side of the stove.

“Maya was only busy with her new crayons,” I said.

“No,” Lucy whispered, pulling the loose thread until it cinched into a hard knot around her finger.

“Aunt Caroline told Maya my clothes weren’t clean and she wasn’t allowed to let me touch her paper.”